


Home is always where you are.

by KiwiLombax15



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU-retirement, Angst, Biting, Established Relationship, M/M, Morning Sex, Oral, Slice of Life, Trans Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, Trans Roadhog | Mako Rutledge, strap ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 18:47:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12260016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiwiLombax15/pseuds/KiwiLombax15
Summary: The Junkers have retired.Mako has regrets.





	Home is always where you are.

**Author's Note:**

> Birthday present for a good friend on Discord! Happy birthday!
> 
> Want more like this? Support the writer here! https://ko-fi.com/fruitbird

“Move, move, move!”

Roadhogs throat was a pipe of agony, lungs straining to heave in oxygen as he struggled against what felt like iron bands around his chest. The burn of bullet holes was there but barely felt against the desperate rasp for air. He was aware of the dusk and smoke, sirens in the background and Junkrats wiry body holding him upright, but the knowledge was distant and vague.

“Come on, come on, the sewers somewhere! Fuck you, coppers! Fuck off!” Junkrats legs were shaking under Roadhogs prodigious weight, but he kept on grimly, staggering through the ruined bank. “Oh, it's all gone tits up!”

Each word was an effort as Roadhog finally wheezed out: “Th....th' gol'...”

“Ferget it!” Junkrat snapped. “We're fucked if we stay here!”

“Police! Get down on the ground!”

Junkrat hissed as police spotlights burned into him.

“We have the place surrounded! Surrender now and we will call an ambulance for your accomplice!”

Junkrat simply raised the detonator, face eerily empty of his signature leer.

“Catch us first then, mate.”

The street cracked and warped, police cars sent scattering as the connection to the bombs in the sewers finally caught. Pulling Roadhog along, Junkrat dived down into the sewers and vanished.

…

There had never been a longer day for Roadhog _(Not true, Mako. There was one longer, always will be)_. Choking for air, bleeding and half dead on his feet, he let his mind drift, only room for one thought.

Follow Junkrat.

The foul smell of the sewers clung to them before they finally reached the little hideout in what had once been a maintenance room, now long forgotten by the world above.  
With a cry of relief Junkrat pounced on the spare supply of Hogdrogen and slotted one into Roadhogs mask just as he began to collapse.

It was relief so sudden he wanted to cry.

“Christ,hog...” Gentle fingers brushed along his wounds. “Let me get these. Just get infected down here...”

Still short of breath and dizzy, Roadhog simply nodded. It took him a while for his scrambled thoughts to realize what was wrong.

The silence.

“You...OK...?”

Junkrat didn't reply, working the tweezers into the bullet wound in grim silence.

“Junkrat...?”

“Just...let me do this.”

Roadhog let Junkrat patch him up, accepting the sting of stitches in silence. This felt wrong. They'd failed heists before and just laughed it off, what was wrong this time? Sure, he was getting older and slower, but that had never stopped him in Junkertown.

Mind you, there hadn't been heists like this in Junkertown...

Junkrat packed the first aid kit away, moving like an old, tired man. Kneeling in front of Roadhog he pressed his forehead to the mask.

“Hog...It's time to stop...”

“Rat?”

“This! It's time to stop all this! The heists and the running and all this shit...we can't keep this up, Mako...”

Roadhog shook his head softly.

“We gotta show 'em. All those fuckin' suits. Gotta burn the world.”

“We did, though. Went all over the place, England, Mexico, Japan...all sorts of places. We made our point, blew 'em all ta shit. They won't forget us, ever. We can stop now. Please?”

“What about the Queen? We w-”

“FUCK the Queen!” Trembling hands came up and took Roadhogs face, leather creaking under strong fingers. “Fuck her, I don't care! I didn't have anything to lose back then! But now, I-”

Junkrats voice cracked, and he buried his face in Roadhogs shoulder. Roadhog felt hot tears on his skin.

“I could lose you...and I can't...I can't be alone again. I nearly...you almost...”

Roadhog sighed, gently hugging Junkrat close.

“This really what you want?”

Junkrat nodded miserably.

“Y'ain't getting' any younger. And m' rad poisonin's been playing up. Maybe time to take all our money and find someplace they don't know us. Get some fake ID's, maybe. Bet Sombra'd hook us up, she owes us a favour anyway.”

Refusal bubbled in Roadhogs chest, a desire to burn and crush and show the world just who they'd left behind...then his stroking fingers took a clump of Junkrats hair with them and the feeling died.

“Yeah...Think it is just about time.”

Junkrat's body melted with relief against him.

“Thank fuck. Knew there was a reason I hired ya. And it wasn't just the muscle...”

Roadhog chuckled.

“Where you wanna go?”

“Dunno. Where ain't we been? I mean, we're wanted the world over but might be best t' go somewhere they ain't had us blow up yet.”

The answer sparkled in Roadhogs head in an instant, drawn up from the secret place in him, his deepest, oldest desire.

“New Zealand.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah...never went there, did we?”

“Nah...is it nice?”

“...It's green.”

“I like it...New Zealand...Gonna need new identities, eh? I'm thinking something like...Cornelius Forthington Ratsworth the Third. Really throw 'em off the scent.”

Roadhog chuckled at the old fire already starting to rekindle in Junkrats eyes. He never really could be kicked down for long.

“Maybe something simpler...”

…  
Some time later.  
…

“Skraaarrrrk.”

Mako twitched as something tweaked his hair. Jamie fiddling with him and making mouth noises he supposed.

“Quit it...it's too early...”

There was a momentary pause and a nibble on his ear. Which didn't feel like Junkrat at all. His eyes flew open and he gazed in mild shock at the kakapo perched on his chest. It skrarked loudly in offence, flouncing off the bed and out the open window. He heard it gracelessly hit the ground outside with a thud.

He scowled at the mess it had made of his windowsill herb garden. He'd been as overjoyed as any red blooded Kiwi when they'd been reintroduced to the mainland years ago, but the damn things got everywhere these days...

Jamie, AKA Jonathan Fox as far as the New Zealand government was concerned, shifted slightly, rolling into the dent Mako had left when he'd sat up with a warm sleepy noise. His face was open and relaxed in sleep, hair soft and fluffy where it had finally grown back in. A slow stretch showed off the barely definable pudge and softened abs the quiet life had led to. In these quiet moments he could almost see the man he could have been in another life.

Still stained with soot and dirt, though. Some things about his husband would never change. Gentle fondness squeezed his heart. He leaned down and softly kissed his forehead, whispering in Te Reo.

_“((Good morning, my love. Sleep peacefully.))”_

Jamie reached out, murmuring something softly as he pressed closer. Golden eyes peered sleepily up at him from lowered lids before he was nuzzling into Mako's neck, a hand nudging gently down his boxers. Mako chuckled.

_“((Is that what you want, hmm? Let me take care of you.))”_

He wriggled his boxers down just enough and guided Jamie's hips closer, nudging his meta in between warm skinny thighs.

Jamie sighed in sleepy bliss and slowly ground his hips against Mako. The farmer could see Jamie drift in and out of wakefulness, a gentle smile on his lips as soft, hungry noises slipped out. It was perfect. A warm safe den of blankets and the smell of sweat and soot and the tingles spreading into his thighs as Jamie's slow grindings picked up speed slightly.

Mako relaxed more into it. His stamina wasn't as high as it used to be but he could feel himself slowly getting more interested.

_“((That's it...that's a good boy...))”_

Long hours spent teaching Jamie Te Reo bore fruit as he arched and sighed, shuddering against him as his hands clenched in Mako's shirt. He stroked Jamie's hair as he melted back into sleep. He'd been vaguely entertaining the idea of coming as well, but it was no big deal. He wasn't a young man anymore and he'd learned the value of patience.

Not fair to disturb Jamie's rest.

He crept out of bed as carefully as he could, and Jamie folded into the big dent with a happy sigh.

The little house creaked as Mako crept through it. Grey dawn light filtered through the curtains. Yawning and scratching, he fed the animals. You Utter Bastard the goat nickered at him and tried to eat his singlet, and he made a mental note to take her to the neighbours billy goat soon if they wanted milk from her next year. He casually stopped her daily escape attempt and turned to the chickens next. Six fresh warm eggs. Technically there were ten chickens there, but they were getting old and he didn't have the heart to cull them as they stopped laying.

And finally, Rua. The fat little Kune Kune grunted warmly at him as he tipped her breakfast into the trough. He left the gate open for when she was done. She'd wander inside and fall asleep on the couch when she felt like it.

Chores done, he padded inside and booted up the computer, logging onto the bank account registered to one Michael Rurawhe. He had a habit of checking it daily, the part of him that had grown up poor still convinced it would simply vanish one day. The number of zeroes was still reassuringly immense, and he transferred some into the everyday account. They needed groceries while the garden died back in winter.

A cup of coffee was placed in front of him and he jumped slightly. Jamie leaned over and kissed him, mouth tasting like hot coffee.

“Forgot yer pills, love.”

“Thanks.”

He looked at the handful of pills Jamie had given him and sighed. Pills for his joints. Pills for his heart. Pills for his lungs. Getting older was a pain. He tossed them back with a swig of coffee.

“Breakfast, darl?” Jamie called out by the stove.

“Scrambled eggs, please.”

Jamie nodded and set to work. The clicking of trotters on linoleum lit up Mako's face.

“There's my sweetheart! Have a good breakfast?”

He scratched the stiff bristles on Rua's back and she grunted happily.

Jamie looked up from the stove, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Sometimes I really wonder which one of us you love the most, me or the pig!”

Rua snoofed his leg and flopped down under Makos chair. A few moments later the kitchen was full of piggy snores. A big plate of scrambled eggs and toast was placed in front of him.

“Need anything at the shops today, Mako?”

Jamie plopped down in the chair next to him and began to shovel down his own breakfast.

“Usual groceries. Getting low on beer. Might need more oil for the ute.”

“No worries. Chuck us the paper, would you?”

The morning newspaper was passed over. Roadhog glanced at his husband and paused, fork of eggs halfway to his mouth. Drink in hand and calmly reading the paper, there was no sign of the Junker he used to be. Wild. Dangerous. Working explosives like they were a part of himself. After some argument and an awkward police visit, Jamie had accepted that bombs weren't going to be a part of his life, and had turned his genius to fireworks. Just as loud. Just as exciting. But safer. His peg leg was stashed safe in a closet. Too recognizable. He wore a simple, sleek modern leg now, even if flames decorated his calf.

Jamie wasn't Junkrat anymore. He was...tame.

He leaned down and scratched Rua behind her ears so Jamie couldn't see his face.

They'd done the right thing. Got out while they were alive.

Hadn't they?

They'd gained so much, but what had they lost? What essential part of themselves had withered under the gentle life?

He got himself as much under control as he could and straightened up.

“Think you mentioned we were low on matches, too.” he mumbled, trying to find a distraction from the revelation.

“Oh yeah! Thanks, I forgot that! Get some interesting effects in m' fireworks when I crush up match heads.”

The normal morning routine passed and since when had it been normal for Jamie to have a routine? When had that happened?

They ushered Rua back to her pen for when they were gone and climbed into the ute, setting off down the long, winding road to the little town.

Jamie drove as usual, chattering away about everything that crossed his mind. It was something of his that never changed and Mako clung to it gratefully.

“Y'alright, love? Been quiet.”

Mako fiddled with his wedding ring.

Quiet, domestic bliss. Hadn't that been what he'd wanted, so long ago?

“Yeah...Just not feeling chatty.”

“Fair enough-ooh! Pukekos!”

They chugged into the little seaside town, past the Marae they got married at _(“-You may now exchange vows.” “...Oh fuck I forgot them! I had them all written down and everything!” “Never change, my ipo.”)_ , overlooking the vast pacific ocean. Mako had to talk Jamie out of skipping grocery shopping to look for paua shells.

Again.

The smell of the ocean wrapped around them as they stepped out of the car, the smell of rotting seaweed and salt people who had never been to the seaside called “fresh ocean air”.

Jamie clambered out of the ute and stopped dead.

An omnic was leaving the supermarket, checking the messages on its phone. Once Jamie would have started a scene, unable to help himself. He was getting better at it, though. He fixed it with a poisonous look until it was out of sight. Mako relaxed. They already had a reputation as kooks. They didn't need any more attention.

He lagged behind Jamie as he ran ahead, filling up the basket. Just another shopper out on a weekend. The sight of Jamie comparing prices on the cheese depressed him and he looked away. Once they would have barged in with screams and soot, taking what they wanted and damn the consequences. He'd gone years not worrying about it. But ever since he'd had the thought that morning he just couldn't shake it.

Softness had wormed its way into him too. Even as he looked around for exits and entrances and vantage points he saw people he knew. People he couldn't bring himself to hurt.  
Tina at the register, idly chatting with Mx Holstein. She was studying for her nursing degree.

Old Mr Collens. His arthritis was worse these days, and Jamie had once helped him load his shopping into his car.

Rena. Pregnant with her first child.

He hadn't had people he'd cared about for years, since before the Omnium. He told himself he would care for no one but Junkrat ever again.

And still the people here had crept under his skin.

“Jonno!”

He looked up at the shout.

“Ayy! Hemi! How ya doin', mate?”

Mako stepped back and let them bro-hug, the skinny maori youth nearly dropping the bag of precooked sausages he'd been holding.

“Been ages, mate!”

“Yeah, sorry 'bout that. Been busy on the farm.”

“No worries, eh. You two coming to my cuz's boil-up on friday?”

“There a veggie option?”

“Yeah, sure! No worries!”

“No promises, but we'll have a crack, right? See ya round!”

Jamies friend waved and hurried off to the check out. Friends. Had he ever seen Junkrat have a friend? There had been Skink the trader in the outback, but she'd been just...friendly. Not an actual friend. He was blossoming here, in a safe little town full of safe little people, no need to watch his back. It was good for him. Was he really selfish enough to take that away from him just because he wanted what he'd been years ago?

He didn't know how to answer that question.

“Ma-er, Michael? Earth t' hubby?”

“Hmm?”

“I said, which flavour?”

Jamie held up two packs of the flavoured soy sausages they both liked. Shaking himself out of the grip of Junkertown, he grunted softly and pointed at the sage flavoured ones. Jamie cocked his head.

“Honestly love, you've been a million miles away this mornin'.”

“Sorry...”

Jamie laced long fingers through Makos and he breathed out, taking comfort in his steady warmth.

“Bad memory day?”

“Something like that...”

“OK. We'll finish up here and head home. Get the rest of the stuff tomorrow.”

He let Junkrat _(Jamie. Jamie. He's not Junkrat anymore)_ take the lead and pay for the groceries. The story spread around was that “Michael” was an army vet with a bad case of PTSD, and Tina gave him a sympathetic smile as she bagged their groceries.

He spent the drive home staring out the window, watching the lush green hillsides roll away past them. Halfway through he felt Jamie rest a warm hand on his knee.

It was a little bit of welcome comfort.

He let Jamie unpack when they got home, scooping up his fencing tools as an excuse to be alone. It was blessed, mindless labour, tying wire and replacing posts. Rua trotted at his side, occasionally sniffing at the work site and rootling in the dirt. Off in the distance he could hear the familiar crackles and pops from Jamie's shed, as he tested a new firework. Unbidden, his mind cast back to the good old days, resting in a run down hide out waiting for the heat to die down as Junkrat tinkered quietly, the little puffs and bangs at first irritating, then soothing. As familiar and comforting as his own heartbeat.

Jamies fireworks were beautiful, but a love of explosions had crept into Mako's heart as well, as if something of Junkrat was contagious.

He missed blowing up banks and museums.

Rua made a “snirf” noise at his feet, and he shook himself back to the present and stroked her. The pig seemed to have an unerring sense of when Mako was getting lost in his own head, and he was grateful for it.

He found small tasks where he could, keeping his hands busy to try and drive away the demons in his head. Rua followed him like a shadow at he loped like a caged beast around the farm, elderly hens occasionally pecking at his bootlaces hopefully.

Finally, Jamie called him in for dinner and there were no more excuses.

He'd cooked mashed kumera and vegetarian sausages. Jamie's cooking outside of barbeque was always a bit hit-and-miss, and the sausages were mainly charcoal. But Mako had eaten worse things to keep skin and bone together, and he wasn't going to start complaining about his husbands cooking now.

He let Jamie's chatter cover him like a well worn and cozy blanket as he picked at his lumpy mashed kumera. Like a weatherman, he could read the currents in it, the words meaningless compared to the tone and inflection.

Jamie was concerned. Worried and trying to put on a cheerful face for Mako's sake.

And that only made him feel worse.

He looked around the little dining room. The place was a mess, a small and crowded cottage crammed full of knick knacks and things Jamie refused to throw away. All their hide aways had been the same.

But never permanent.

He looked down at his hands. Massive fists that could crush skulls. Now stained with soil and paint. His black nail polish was chipped.

The evening passed in a blur, curled up on the couch with Jamie snuggled up to him, Rua sprawling across their laps snoring gentle pig snores. He could sense Jamie glancing up at him from time to time but kept his eyes glued shut to the television. As if sent by some cruel and unhelpful god, the current affairs show was a special about the “mysterious disappearance” of the Junker duo who had terrorized the world years ago.

_“-Yes, OK, I'll grant you they were a product of their environment. No one knew just how bad the government neglect of the outback at the time was, but there still has to be justice. They still need to be punished for their crimes.”_

_“No one's denying that, Richard, no one's denying that at all, but they left no trace. They were never exactly subtle about their presence.”_

_“Is it possible they fled back to Junkertown?”_

_“That was the main theory, but there was no trace of them there, either.”_

_“It's a big place.”_

_“Filled with settlements, as it turns out. No one there saw them.”_

_“Would Junkers tell the police the truth though?”_

_“I'm given to understand calling most outback residents “junkers” is a fast way to lose a tooth. And since aid efforts came in things have gotten a lot friendlier-”_

Jamie stirred in Mako's arms.

“Wonder how Skink and all that lot are doing now the Fence is down?”

Mako shrugged wordlessly.

“Yeah, y'right. She always was a free spirit, don't see her settling down in the 'burbs any time soon. Probl'y still out the back of beyond. Decent bastard. Always gave me good deals on C4.”

Mako grunted.

“Love how the wankers're all still hunting in Australia. Good ol' Sombra, eh?”

Mako grunted again and stroked Jamies hair for lack of anything to say. It seemed to work, and he settled down in his arms. Quieter this time.

The evening passed.

Mako put Rua out in her pen for the night before slinking inside for his shower. The warm spray of hot water did little to shake him from his cold dark thoughts. He'd neutered the man, that's what he'd done. Taken the lean hungry dingo and pulled the teeth from its jaws, left it a slow and friendly house pet.

When he stepped into their bedroom, Jamie was curled up under the blankets, a silent lump.

“Jamie?”

“Are ya mad at me, Hog?” His voice was soft and sad. Sickness flooded Mako's stomach, anger and disgust at himself, wallowing in his own selfish misery and letting Jamie think it was his fault.

He sat down on the bed and stroked his hair.

“No, Jamie. 'Course I'm not. I'm just...I'm sorry. It's been a bad day for me.” he said softly.

“Then why won't ya talk t' me about it? Y'always do when it's bad.”

“I...I just...” He looked down at his hands. “Do you...regret this? This life?”

His husband wriggled out of his cocoon.

“Moving here ya mean?”

“Yeah. We were something feared once. We were showing the world what happens to suits and parasites. And now you can't even make your bombs anymore. I feel like I stripped something important from you.”

A soft hand brushed his hair from his eyes.

“Mako...hun. It's alright. Hell, I gotta admit there's days I miss the good ol' days as well. But where was that gonna lead us in the end, eh? Riddled fulla bullets and dumped in a hole somewhere? Hoggie, we made our point. People remembered the Junkers, everyone the fuckers in parliament tossed away. We blew up banks, scrapped some bots and made away with the cash. We won. Plain and simple. And I like making fireworks. It's nice to make explosions that everyone can enjoy.”

Mako sighed and lay back on the bed, Jamie following him down.

“Still. We spent so long wild...those were good days.”

“Yeah. They were, that.”

Jamie stroked the fading lines of Makos tattoo, both silent as they remembered past heists. The lanky ex bomber sighed and patted the friendly little piggy.

“Past is past, Mako. We made our choices, and I don't regret them. I'm happy here. Really. Nice not to wake up yakkin' m' guts from rad sickness. Lie back, darl. Let me take your mind off this, hmm?”

His fingers trailed up and gently tugged on his nipple ring, and Mako breathed out. He'd worked himself into knots all day. The thought of Jamie unraveling them sent warm honey down his spine.

“Yeah...alright.”

Rummaging in the bedside cabinet, Jamie pulled out their favorite strap on and lube. Mako stripped, tossing his clothes heedlessly to the floor.

“You get yourself ready for me, eh darl? Give you what ya need.”

Age and hormones had left Mako dry, but the warmth of arousal still built in his gut with the same old fire it had always done as he ground his meta against his fingers. A wet mouth enclosed it and he jerked.

Jamie's lithe wet tongue slid up his length, following the surgery scar up to the sensitive tip. Heat bloomed in Mako's body as Jamie sucked, fast and steady at an even pace. Mako buried his fingers in sooty blond hair and trembled, wordless and helpless at the hands of someone he could break with one hand.

He whimpered in desperation as Jamie pulled off him, a thread of saliva trailing from his tongue as he moved away. His pupils were blown wide with hunger, golden eyes dark and lustful in the way that left Mako breathless.

Jamie pressed close, warm breath in Makos ear as his fingers went between his legs, coated in lube. Mako arched his back and groaned as they slipped inside.

“Remember that bullshit the queen used to spout? How there's no happy endings in Junkertown? She was wrong about that. Dead wrong.”

The slick strap on slid home easily. Mako cried out.

“We got our happy ending.”

Strong hands gripped the fat on his sides and Jamie was thrusting into him, in slow, smooth, deep strokes. No need to go hard or fast. He knew Makos body as intimately as his own, knew just how to get him to howl for it. He bent forward and sucked hard at his neck, and Mako shut his eyes and melted into it, letting the world fall away and his demons fall away.

Just him and Jamie and pleasure, friction deep and loving.

“Ain't wrong t' miss it, hoggy.” Jamie panted, fingers dancing lightly over his nipple piercings and teasing hungry little whimpers from Mako's lips. “Those were real great days. But so are these. Just-nnngfuck, that's right-just you'n me. No one else. No-aaah-no cops, no feds. Just this.”

He gripped a piercing in his teeth, yanking lightly, and Mako _howled_ , hands gripping the bed posts till the wood creaked. Pounding hips ground against his plump meta and deepened the hunger in him.

Jamie kissed him softly, catching his bottom lip in sharp little teeth. The sting was glorious.

“Tell me what ya need, doll.”

_“You...”_

Jamie laughed breathlessly.

“I know that. What d'ya want tonight? Want ya t'come for me, come on.”

It was hard, so hard to speak. He knew what he wanted, god yes. But every time he opened his mouth Jamie would grind his hips in just the right way and his words would trail off in a cry or hungry sob. He got his chance as Jamie paused to catch a breather.

_“Bite me...”_

Jamie smiled indulgently and leaned over him, taking a nipple in his mouth and biting.

His body locked up, arching off the bed as his muscles twitched and jerked with electric pulses, the sting of the bite intensifying and building into sensation that blinded, screaming through his body and leaving him gone, gone, gone, soaring high before crashing down into sweat soaked reality, trembling and shuddering and dazed.

Jamie pulled out, knowing Mako got over sensitive quickly, shoving his hand down the front of his harness and briskly finishing himself with a hungry groan.

“Oh fuck...always good, so good, so perfect. You good?”

His muscles felt like water and he knew he had a stupid, fucked out grin on his face but just couldn't care. Mako nodded as he let himself float in the pinky-golden afterglow.

Jamie tossed the harness casually to the side and flopped into Mako's arms with a sigh. He was never one for pillow talk given his tendency to pass out after an orgasm, and he was soon snoring blissfully.

Mako held him and let himself breathe, looking down at the long thin face, open in sleep.

Clarity and calm was sudden.

Jamie was right. This was all worth it. Yeah, they'd given up a lot for this.

But when much is taken away, something was given. This life, this sleepy town and friendly people. This farm, Rua, Jamie's fireworks. Small compared to their grand schemes in the past (he was using the crown jewels as paperweights), but no less precious. Something small to keep after a life where he'd grown used to keeping nothing, where everything good was ripped away.

The world had wanted them to die, and they'd refused.

They'd won.

Mako wriggled down among their soft pillows, clutching Jamie close.

No shame in enjoying their victory.


End file.
